Help
by GoldenSnidget13
Summary: Harry's taking too long. Ron and Hermione decide to "help" him. H/G, R/Hr


Summary: Harry's taking too long. Ron and Hermione decide to "help" him. H/G, R/Hr

Pairings: H/G, R/Hr

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

If you're going to favourite the story/alert, please leave a review. It's quite disrespectful otherwise. Constructive criticism is welcome:) And I try to reply to all of my reviews in time.

Enjoy!

* * *

'I've had it.' Hermione Granger was nothing short of exasperated as she slumped down dejectedly next to her best friend Ron Weasley on the sagging, soft-velvet crimson sofa.

'What?' inquired Ron confusedly, as he instinctively swivelled his warm cobalt-blue orbs towards her.

'Harry! This is getting ridiculous now!' Hermione huffed irritably. 'He absolutely refuses to do anything about G-'

'Please tell me you're not about to say my sister's name,' Ron interjected hurriedly, as Hermione gawped at him.

'Well, yes, I was,' Hermione retorted perplexedly, 'I didn't know you'd noticed-'

'-are you bloody well joking?' Ron exclaimed scornfully. 'The whole school has noticed! If he's not making googly-eyes at her, he's staring at her, talking to her, laughing with her and who knows what else! I'm not that thick, Hermione.'

Hermione felt a heavy surge of guilt wash over her, a most unpleasant feeling. 'He is a bit obvious,' she admitted reluctantly, 'I caught him giving Dean daggers this morning. I guess he hasn't heard about Ginny dumping him yet.'

'My sister dumped Dean?' yelped Ron disbelievingly, a hint of delight barely concealed in his tone.

'Yeah, last night,' nodded Hermione amusedly. 'She said he was being really possessive and jealous, trying to forbid her from talking to other boys. And of course the whole portrait hole thing.'

Ron shrugged as he nibbled absently on the end of his Sugar Quill, the vacant glaze eminent in his eyes proof his thoughts were far from Ginny and Harry.

'Anyway,' Hermione quickly attempted to jolt him back to their conversation, desperately hoping he wasn't drooling over Lavender.

(Not that she cared if he was, or anything.)

'Anyway, I did hope he was going to do something when they got put in detention together the other day.' Hermione continued ruefully. 'But he's still pretending he doesn't fancy her and if he doesn't ask her out soon, I have a feeling someone else will do it.'

Ron scowled furiously at the very thought of his sister being mauled and pawed at by another boy. 'What should we do?'

Hermione bit her lip worriedly, clearly conflicted as she puzzled it over.

'Well, frankly I think telling Ginny is a waste of time,' she admitted ruefully, 'I've been dropping hints all year but she refuses to believe it. She's as stubborn as he is!'

'Why don't we just lock them in a broom cupboard or something!' suggested Ron hotly.

Hermione grinned uncharacteristically, a wicked gleam ignited in her liquid russet-brown eyes. 'Really, Ron? Harry in a broom cupboard. With Ginny. Snogging.'

'Enough!' spluttered Ron disgustedly, gasping for air as he cut off his long-time crush. 'Bad, bad idea.'

'Why don't we write Ginny a love letter from "Harry"?' Hermione suddenly offered eagerly. 'We can have Hedwig deliver it to her dormitory tonight! It's just the encouragement they both need.'

'You're bloody brilliant, you are,' Ron gazed at her, admiration legible in his transfixed eyes.

Hermione immediately flushed a startling, yet quite attractive shade of cadmium. 'I, er, thank you, Ron.'

Ron felt his own face heat up uncomfortably as he diverted his warm stare over to where an enraged Dean Thomas was snapping at a bewildered Seamus Finnegan.

'We could even put in a bit saying "meet me by the lake tomorrow at lunchtime"!' Ron grinned abruptly.

'Perfect,' beamed Hermione, trying her best to ignore how full-lipped and liberally- freckled Ron's supple lips were.

'We can write it while Harry's at his lesson with Dumbledore,' Ron added thoughtfully, as his eyes were caught on how attractive Hermione's wild, tawny mane was when it glinted in the sun.

'Where is Harry, anyway?' Hermione wondered aloud. 'I haven't seen him since Potions.'

'He has a Charms detention,' answered Ron helpfully, 'he and Neville collided and knocked a cauldron full of Shrinking Solution over Flitwick, who became one inch tall.' he chuckled fondly at the memory.

'Suddenly I'm glad my desk is nowhere near yours or Harry's,' Hermione remarked reproachfully. 'Poor Professor Flitwick.'

'Hermione, the man was already about three foot, it couldn't have been that big a blow to him,' Ron protested, but he saw the affectionate gleam in her eyes and the inevitable smile tugging on the corners of her mouth, and fell quiet.

* * *

Harry pressed a clammy thumb to his aching wrist and sighed heavily.

He'd only completed twenty of his set fifty lines ('I will not become a clumsy, capering clot in Charms classes') and yet his mind was idly drifting away to other matters.

Other redheaded matters.

Ginny Weasley was constantly on his brain; he saw her everywhere, whether it was snogging him senseless in a wistful, deliciously-satisfying dream (he loved those ones) or bantering and joking with him at Quidditch practice.

Once or twice, he even considered the possibility she was _flirting_ with him.

'Don't be stupid,' he breathed firmly to himself, as nearby Neville whimpered pathetically, having just scrawled out his tenth line.

But Ginny was smart, beautiful (that hair! And those eyes...), funny and feisty. So who could blame him for hoping she was flirting with him sometimes?

And she'd dumped Dean! She was free and he couldn't take it if someone else asked her out before he had the chance –

'No! She's Ron's sister!' he reprimanded himself angrily. 'She's off limits!'

Determinedly pushing Ginny from his reluctant, sluggish brain, Harry forced himself to refer to other things. Like Ron and Hermione, for instance.

He wondered what they were doing. Most likely bickering or flirting. It was getting so tense between them that Harry felt like banging their dense heads together.

It couldn't have been clearer that Ron was enamoured with Hermione. And Hermione wasn't exactly subtle when it came to the extent of her huge crush on Ron.

'All right, boys,' squeaked Flitwick grimly, 'time's up. Finish the rest of the lines for extra homework due in tomorrow.'

Harry barely heard him as he leapt jovially from his stiff wooden bench and bolted for the door, Neville right behind him; he was just about to squeeze through when a creamy, freckle-peppered arm flung it open and he crashed brutally into its owner.

A few seconds later, a frozen, horrified Harry found himself staring down at Ginny Weasley, who had been pummelled to the floor and was rubbing her evidently-sore head.

'Well well, Potter, you do seem to have a habit of knocking things over today!' chastised Flitwick breezily, as he hurried over to lift Ginny to her feet. 'Miss Weasley, I assume you're here to collect your Elemental Charms report?'

'Yes sir,' Ginny replied casually, as she brushed herself down liberally and avoided Harry's eye.

'An "O", as always, Miss Weasley,' Flitwick scrabbled frenziedly in his desk for the papers, before producing the said report. 'And I look forward to you demonstrating your Water Charm to the class tomorrow.'

Ginny nodded, grinning, as she accepted her report back and leant quietly against the nearest desk to scan it over.

'Off to lunch, you two.' Flitwick snapped impatiently at Harry and Neville; he didn't wait for their reply before darting out of the still-ajar door and waddling down the corridors.

'Sorry, Ginny, you alright?' Harry felt his stomach clench painfully as he met her eyes - mesmerising emerald with fiery topaz.

'Don't worry. If I'd got a Troll in my report, maybe I'd be feeling a little loose with my wand, Harry, but forget it.' Ginny grinned jokingly.

Harry felt himself relax. It was amazing how at ease she made him. 'Good thing this isn't a History of Magic report we're talking about, then.'

Ginny's jaw dropped in mock-shock and anger. 'Did Harry Potter just insult my History of Magic skills!?' she questioned with a flippant smirk.

Harry laughed. 'I'm actually starving. Want to go down to lunch?'

Ginny raised her eyebrows. 'Why not?' she responded cheekily, stuffing her wand down her sleeve.

The two of them ventured out into the solitary hallways, chortling and quipping to one another.

Neville watched them with a broad smile plastered across his flustered, round face.

They were meant to be together.

Neville scurried out of the classroom elatedly. He had a lot to report to Hermione Granger.

* * *

'Thanks, Neville.' said Hermione graciously. 'You've been a real help.' she gave him one last grateful nod and turned eloquently on her heel, heading up towards the girls' dorms, a piece of fresh parchment tucked securely in her pocket.

'Hermione! Hermione!'

She had just reached the top of the stairs and was about to disappear up to her own dorm when she heard the eager voice that made her heart race erratically.

Ron lunged at the stairs savagely (which was when a very unpleasant, raucous wailing sound broke out) and Hermione had to suppress a laugh when they swiftly melded into a steep slope and he slid, thrashing about, right down to where he'd begun.

'Er-my-knee!' he wheezed. 'Er-my-knee. Wait!'

Hermione, smirking, descended the stairs and gently pulled him to his feet, as a giggle reverberated from her throat.

'How many times before you stop doing that?' she inquired airily, referring to his 'graceful' attempt up the girls' stairs.

Ron ignored this light-hearted jibe. 'Let's write the letter! Harry's gone to see Dumbledore and Ginny's about to go up to her dorm with her friends.'

Hermione fished out the slightly-crumpled sheet of parchment from her pocket and waved it tauntingly in his disgruntled face.

'You wrote it without me?' Ron observed disbelievingly. 'Hermione! We're supposed to be partners here.'

'Well, I thought you weren't coming!' Hermione countered defensively. 'You were supposed to meet me in the Common Room at eight. It's ten past.'

'I was breaking up with Lavender.' Ron replied angrily. 'And it was not fun! She threw a bloody rock at my head!'

Hermione couldn't fight off the beam that spread widely across her face. 'You dumped her?'

'Yeah, she's too much for me,' Ron shivered melodramatically. 'I much prefer bookworms.'

He didn't initially realise he'd voiced that last bit until he saw Hermione gaping open-mouthed at him, a flattering magenta flush sweeping over her cheeks.

'I - um - where were we?' he stammered nervously.

'Uh, we were, um, arguing about the letter,' supplied Hermione quietly.

'Oh, right.' Ron quickly redeemed himself. 'Let me read it then.'

Hermione regretfully handed him the sealed parchment, and Ron enthusiastically tore it open.

'Dear Ginny,' he read aloud, lowering his voice accordingly, 'I really like you. Please meet me at the library for a study date tomorrow at lunchtime. Love Harry.'

He stared incredulously at the finished piece for a few, tense moments, and then started guffawing. Loudly.

Hermione, infuriated, snatched back her letter and smoothed out the ugly creases swimming through it. 'What's so funny about it?' she demanded.

'Library - for - a - study - date!' Ron spluttered uncontrollably. 'Harry would never write that! And he wouldn't sign off "love Harry" either!'

Hermione folded her arms across her chest dangerously. 'Really, Ron? And what would YOU have written, then? Can you even write letters?'

'Did_ Vicky_ take you on library study dates, then?' Ron snapped, as though he hadn't heard her.

'_Don't_ call him Vicky!' shrieked Hermione, seething.

Ron didn't seem remotely abashed. Hermione's cutting remark about his writing was still stinging.

'I suppose _Vicky_ can write beautiful love notes?' he bellowed, fuming.

'This isn't about Vick – I mean, Viktor – this is supposed to be about our best friends and getting them together!' Hermione yelled irately, as a curious, enthralled crowd of Gryffindors, including a red, crusty-eyed Lavender gathered round, sharp ears alert.

'Yeah. R-right.' Ron shook his head violently, as if clearing it of all the pent up anger.

'Show's over,' Hermione growled at the excitable, whispering cluster of students. 'First years, you should be in bed!'

'How can we sleep with you two morons having a full-blown lovefest directly below our dorms?' pointed out one brave younger boy, glaring defiantly at Hermione.

Ron waited hastily for the explosion.

'Go to bed!' Hermione hissed at him, her tone holding contempt and a heavy warning.

He picked his way rapidly through the crowd and stumbled upstairs to his faithfully awaiting four-poster.

Hermione tugged firmly at Ron's sweat-soaked palms. 'Let's go to the Owlery.' she instructed him, and Ron knew the pitch of her voice meant she was not to be disobeyed.

They arrived in the Owlery, bickering half-heartedly, occasional jokes slipping into the mix in places, and were almost immediately ambushed by a rather agitated Pigwidgeon, who had somehow mysteriously been deprived of all the silky fawn-striped feathers on his back.

'Pig!' Ron scolded aggressively, as the small bird began frantically jabbing him with his jagged orange beak.

'Ron, he's hurt,' Hermione exclaimed anxiously, as Pig suddenly collapsed on Ron's shoulder, releasing one last pathetic chirp.

'Oi!' Ron snapped at the other bemused owls all perched in their respective shelves, chattering amiably. 'Which one of you bullies hurt Pig?'

Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly. 'Ron, owls can't talk.' she reminded him disdainfully.

Suddenly a huge tawny owl, with a magically-altered shocking-cerise pink beak and enhanced, puffed out burnt umber feathers screeched loudly and took off from its position, launching itself at Ron.

'Stupefy!' Hermione said calmly, and a blinding shot of scarlet burst from the tip of her wand and the attacker was blasted backwards, onto a discarded pile of unaddressed envelopes and elaborately-carved Hogwarts'-emblem seals, completely knocked out.

'That's Lavender's owl,' Ron stuttered, his hands shaking turbulently.

Hermione shifted her gaze up to the Stupefied owl's nest. 'He was sitting on a pile of Pig's feathers.'

Ron clenched his fists tempestuously. 'Lavender set her ruddy owl on me and Pig! Bloody psycho!' he snarled bitterly.

Hermione smiled wanly. 'Here, I'll take care of Pig,' she offered kindly. 'You rewrite the letter.' this last bit was said with the slightest edge to her voice and Ron bit back his grin and thrust her a grateful nod.

As Hermione used an assortment of Healing spells on the injured owl, Ron set to work with his quill, scribbling away determinedly.

Hermione ran a soothing finger down a jubilant Pigwidgeon's back and allowed him to flutter up to his post, somehow now very upbeat from the distressed creature he'd been before.

Ron dumped the quill clumsily into his back pocket and harrumphed, clearly satisfied with his few minutes' work.

Hermione traipsed over to where he was standing and scrutinised the yellowing parchment in his hands.

'Dear Ginny. Hi. Come to the lake to - Ron, tomorrow has two "R's" – and we can share a very, very brief kiss. And not kiss again if Ron is anywhere near. Or preferably ever again. Yours, Harry. Ron, this is COMPLETELY unusable!'

Ron scowled. 'Why?'

Hermione looked him steadily in the eye. 'It's so utterly ridiculous. Ginny will know Harry didn't write this rubbish!'

'Better than a study date in the library!' Ron objected rudely.

'Let's write it together then!' Hermione ordered, tired out. 'This is getting ridiculous.'

Ron agreed fervently. 'Fine. So how shall we start...'

* * *

Twenty minutes later (the time getting dangerously close to Harry's scheduled return time from Dumbledore's office) the letter was ready. Ron had proved surprisingly good at imitating Harry's spiky handwriting and together, he and Hermione had produced what they thought was a perfect product.

'Spill some coffee on it!' Ron suggested excitedly.

'Ron!' Hermione snapped. 'We just spent almost half an hour on this and you want to ruin it?'

'No, no,' Ron protested perplexedly, 'Muggles do it all the time! They spill coffee on letters to make them more mysterious and stuff.'

Hermione frowned. 'I don't think-' she started doubtfully, but stopped when she saw how crestfallen her crush looked. It was enough to make her want to cry.

'Okay, then.' she said, and tapped her wand twice on the parchment. At once puddles of soggy chocolate-brown liquid splotched all over the blank areas of the paper.

Ron seemed amazed by this. 'Now it looks weird,' he told her suspiciously. 'Muggles are so strange.'

Hermione smirked at this; she knew for a fact the coffee was going to confuse Ginny to no end but by this point she wasn't bothered. It had reached ten to nine and she was exhausted and frankly, too much so to care how plausible the coffee stains were.

'Hedwig!' Ron called warmly. 'Letter!'

The snowy owl came flapping obediently from her concealed shelf, her beak clasped open in anticipation of her delivery.

'Take this to Ginny Weasley, please,' Hermione patted the owl affectionately on her smooth ivory-white head.

Hedwig didn't move, nor did she take the envelope; instead she suddenly took off back towards her cosy nest.

'It's because we're not Harry,' Hermione announced knowingly to a puzzled Ron, 'she can't really take orders from someone who isn't her owner, can she?'

Ron wasn't the slightest bit disappointed, nor discouraged; he leant further towards Hedwig, now nestled comfortably in her bed, and spoke in a friendly, affable voice.

'Hedwig, you know my sister, Ginny, don't you?' he began. The owl seemed to nod her head with a slight twitch – Ron continued. 'And I'm sure an – intelligent – owl such as yourself has noticed that Harry's sort of...fallen for her. Hard.'

Hedwig nodded again, the frost in her glassy amber eyes melting away.

'Well, me and Hermione want Harry to be with Ginny. We know he wants to be with her more than anything but he's too cowardly.'

Hedwig clicked her beak irritably at this; apparently she didn't tolerate any abuse of her beloved Harry.

'Um, anyway, well, we need to get them together,' Ron doggedly braved on, 'so we're sending Ginny a love note signed from Harry, even though we wrote it. Then hopefully she'll read it, and, um, snog him.'

Hedwig fluttered out from her nest, beak once again outstretched and grasped the letter from Ron. She nipped him lightly across the ear, much to his surprise and delight, before sailing out of the open window nearby and into the chilly, navy stretch of atmosphere awaiting her.

Ron turned round, dusting off the sticky, itchy owl feathers clinging to his fingers, to find Hermione smiling serenely at him.

'Well done,' she praised happily. 'Now we wait!'

* * *

Ginny slammed shut her History of Magic textbook in frustration. 'What does Bathilda Bagshot know anyway,' she murmured darkly to herself.

Her OWLs fast approaching, she (under the strict instruction of Hermione) had taken to revising the day's lessons every night, but found it was almost impossible to remember any of the ramblings Professor Binns gabbled on about in his lessons.

'Ginny, just forget it,' her friend Fay persuaded her with a charming smile. 'Revising is such a waste of time anyway. Let's go down to the Common Room and have a game of Exploding Snap or something.'

'Or something,' Ginny thought sourly, thinking of Dean. She was still furious with him after how jealous and possessive he'd been acting; even going so low to suggest Harry fancied her!

That had been when she'd really lost it and hexed him. He'd known how she'd had a huge crush on him in her first few years at Hogwarts, and now to bring it all back, reminding her of how he'd never like her that way, was in her opinion, cruel.

'Why not?' Ginny grinned at Fay and heaved herself off of her bed obligingly. She was about to follow her friend from the soothing warmth of the dormitory when a raucous screech distracted her and she whipped around, wand drawn and her pupils dilated, the ebony black drowning out the honey-topaz rim around them.

Harry Potter's owl was sitting demurely on her bed.

With a letter in her beak.

A letter addressed to her.

'Hedwig?' Ginny voiced her doubt. 'Harry send you, did he?'

Hedwig seemed to consider this for a while, as though anyone other than Harry could have sent her, before twitching her head forward gently.

Ginny reached out cautiously and plucked the letter from the owl's grip.

She sunk down onto her bed and stroked Hedwig's soft feathers absent-mindedly, before ripping open the letter.

_Ginny,_

_I need to tell you something. It's really important. Can you meet me at lunchtime tomorrow by the lake?_

_Harry_

_P.S. If Hedwig acts strangely, it is purely coincidental._

Ginny held the odd-smelling parchment between her fingers in partial revulsion and confusion.

What could Harry want to tell her? And why the hell had he spilled what smelled bizarrely of coffee all over the letter?

'Ginny!' it was Fay shrieking at her from the stairs; Ginny started and hurriedly yanked open her bedroom drawer and threw the letter inside before calling back to Fay, 'I'm not feeling very well. I'm going to stay up here.'

And she laid, face screwed up in concentration and confusion, down on her bed, Summoning the letter back to ponder its enigmatic quality some more.

Hedwig floated out of the window, soaring towards the Owlery with her wings sharply expanded. She had done her job. Would Harry do his?

* * *

'Oh no! Holy half-bloods!' Ron groaned.

It was past nine and the two of them had been finishing off their essays for Potions the next day (or, more accurately, Hermione was scribbling corrections over Ron's whilst he tried to perform a Deflea-ing spell on an angry Crookshanks).

'What?' asked Hermione mildly, as she slid his improved essay back towards him.

'We told Ginny to meet Harry by the lake, right?' Ron mumbled.

Hermione nodded.

'But we didn't tell Harry to meet Ginny by the lake! So she'll turn up and he won't be there!' he finished, slapping himself roughly over the head.

Hermione bit her lip. 'Easily solved,' she said wryly, 'all we have to do is send Harry a letter from Ginny!'

'That should be easy,' said Ron sarcastically, 'because every day I write people letters pretending to be my sister!'

Hermione huffed. 'Well, what do you suggest? We've already sent Ginny the letter, there's no going back now.' she challenged him.

'Uh...' Ron trailed off uncertainly. 'A letter it is.'

They got to work; Hermione enchanted a Calligraphy Quill to mimic Ginny's messy, curly print and she, with Ron's occasional interceptions, spoke the destined words.

'...no, that sounds really weird.'

'-okay, change it to-'

'-yep, and add in-'

-okay that seems-'

'-just about-'

'Perfect,' they chorused together and exchanged flustered expressions; Hermione fixated her gaze on her shoes and Ron mumbled something incoherent that sounded a little bit like 'Vicky'.

'Back to the Owlery?' Hermione sighed heavily. 'We're going to have to be quick because Harry's due back any minute.'

Ron furrowed his brow thoughtfully. 'Maybe not. Ginny doesn't have an owl, and I don't think Arnold the Pygmy Puff is up to deliveries, somehow, but I tell you what. We could get Crookshanks to deliver it to Harry.'

Hermione snorted. 'You want to use my cat as a postman?' she repeated sceptically.

'Why not? He's not doing anything.' Ron argued.

Hermione glanced over at her dozing feline, who was curled tightly up on a nearby carnelian-red cashmere pillow, one vibrant chrome-yellow eye snapped open.

'Crookshanks,' she crooned softly, and her devoted cat sprung up and padded slowly over, sniffing Ron with an air of distaste.

'Crookshanks, will you take this to Harry Potter, please?' Hermione cooed at her fluffy, vivid-orange cat, who meowed earnestly in response.

Ron glared at him. 'You know, we could've been friends if you had just let me de-flea you.'

Crookshanks hissed something in reply (Ron was sure it was something very rude in cat-language).

Hermione giggled. 'He's probably in Dumbledore's office still. If you could wait outside until he gets out?' she pleaded.

Crookshanks pawed the protruding envelope out of Hermione's offered hand, unsheathed his disturbingly sharp claws, clamped his jaws around the letter and stalked off, clambering easily through the portrait hole.

'What have we done?' Ron said.

Hermione stared at him for a long, pregnant moment, before she opened her mouth and started laughing.

It began as more of a giggle or a chortle, but swam into a full-blown roar of amusement, and Ron loved it. He loved that infectious sound, the way it so effortlessly filled the room, broke the tense, icy eclipse in the deserted room, and drowned him.

He laughed too.

Hermione's eyes were streaming as she finally gripped herself and the laughter died away, the last dregs of hysteria ebbing off into the distance, but there was still a smile etched upon her face.

'Oh, Merlin,' she breathed, 'I don't even know why I laughed! I just thought of Harry and Ginny's faces if they ever realise what we did!'

Ron smirked. 'Ginny probably will, but Harry won't even think twice about it after they're snogging.' he suddenly blanched disgustedly. 'What am I saying? That's my little sister he's going to snog!'

Hermione was about to answer when there was a loud commotion and an angry, belligerent little voice said 'I thought it would be you two again! Knock it off! Or save your energy to go shag or something!'

Ron recognised the indignant tone and cheek from earlier; it had to be that obnoxious first year from before.

Hermione gasped audibly at the extent of his vocabulary. 'Go to bed before I give you a detention!' she yapped tetchily at the hidden boy.

'I don't think you're going to give me detention though,' squeaked the boy smugly, 'unless you want Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley to find out what you did!'

Hermione's face drained of all colour; a pallid, ghostly honeysuckle-white frame was left in its place and her hand flew to her horrified features.

'Oi, you little git!' Ron shouted vehemently. 'Get your sorry arse back here before I-'

'Ron!' Hermione screamed venomously. 'Shut up!'

'Stop bossing me around, Hermione!' fired back Ron, and he stormed out of the Common Room and up to the boys' dorms, intent on finding that irksome fly of a first year and murdering him horribly.

(Not literally, of course.)

Hermione unleashed her own screech of fury and also fled up to her own dormitory, ready to dish out detentions to anyone who got in her way.

* * *

Harry staggered exhaustedly out of Dumbledore's office, not sparing the rotating gargoyle a glance as he rubbed his eyes impatiently.

The lesson had dragged on and although the memories Dumbledore was showing him were useful, he wished he could have caught an extra few hours' sleep.

'I don't suppose Ron and Hermione will be up at this ti - agh!'

Something bright orange, furry, and savage had pounced on his leg and was hissing madly, tearing away at his trousers.

'What the - Crookshanks!' Harry pulled his aching, bleeding legs free. 'Can't Hermione keep you under control?'

It was then that Harry noticed the mangled letter the wretched thing had encased in its firmly-shut jaws.

He tentatively lunged forward and wrapped his fingers around it, wrenching it from Crookshanks' vice-like grip.

The envelope ripped right down the middle, leaving Harry with two damp, almost-illegible halves of a letter. He adjusted his now-askew glasses on his heated face and drew his wand out.

'Reparo.' the letter, although still dripping with a foul-smelling puddle of cat drool, resealed itself and he began to read, his stomach contracting when he saw the familiar handwriting.

_Harry,_

_I've got to tell you something really important. Can you meet me by the lake tomorrow, around lunchtime?_

_Ginny_

_P.S. If Crookshanks acts oddly, that is solely coincidental._

Harry absorbed the words greedily, drinking down the potentials of the letter.

Could Ginny be telling him she still liked him? He hoped feverishly so. And then he'd lean in and she'd lean in and-

No. That couldn't be it. Harry inwardly cursed himself for so foolishly getting his hopes up, swallowed hard, and trudged despondently up to bed, trying fruitlessly to banish all non-platonic thoughts of Ginny from his head.

He followed a loudly-mewing Crookshanks back to Gryffindor Tower, clambering clumsily through the portrait hole whilst pondering the letter.

When he had finally trudged into his dormitory, Harry's eyes locked onto Ron's still, very much awake form.

'Ron?' he muttered confusedly. 'Are you up?'

But his best friend replied by mumbling something that sounded very much like 'Vicky', so Harry resorted to changing, climbing into his awaiting, snug bed, and rereading the letter for the sixth time.

He didn't even realise he was slipping into a heavy slumber as the crumpled parchment slid easily from his fingers and gently danced down to the floor.

* * *

Hermione had resolved not to talk to Ron over breakfast; she was still outraged about their argument yesterday, not to mention terrified that the first year might actually follow through on his spiteful little threat.

However, she made it her business to talk to Ginny.

'Morning,' she greeted her friend, battling the excitement that was bubbling furiously inside her stomach like a steaming vat of Aging Potion.

'Hi, Hermione,' Ginny answered sleepily, as she swung herself gauchely over the bench and began to pile her plate up with toast.

'I didn't get a chance to speak to you yesterday,' Hermione continued slowly, 'anything exciting happen?'

Ginny eyed Hermione suspiciously as the crumbly slice of toast she'd absently been buttering leapt from her slackened grip to her empty plate.

'Um, not really,' she replied quietly, 'just the usual.'

'Oh,' Hermione tried her best to come off as casual, or at the very least only mildly interested, 'no, um, mail?'

Ginny was now sure something was up with her friend; again she scrutinised Hermione's slightly-disappointed expression, but disregarded it.

'Well, now you mention it,' she said amicably, 'I did get a really weird letter from Harry.'

Hermione practically jumped up from her pose on the bench; something that looked rather like triumph ignited in her mahogany-brown orbs and she beamed. 'What did it say?'

'Apparently, he has something to tell me,' Ginny confided, 'and I'm meant to be meeting him by the lake this lunchtime. I don't know if I'm going, to be honest.'

Hermione bit down brutally on the raw skin of her thumb. 'It could be important.'

'I doubt it.' said Ginny, sighing, with a staged, yet realistic yawn. 'Anyway, I'd better go to Charms. See you.'

And, with one final, messy mouthful of toast, she hopped off the bench and met up with a group of chattering fifth-year girls, picking her way through the corridors.

Hermione had been so engrossed in her brief chinwag with Ginny that she'd forgotten all about how furious she was with Ron, and upon spotting him chomping delightedly through a plate laden with hot meats and gritty, fried eggs, began talking at top speed.

'Ron, Ginny's not going to meet Harry at lunch.'

Ron choked and spluttered over his beloved food; soggy particles of mangled egg flesh splattered over the brassy table and Hermione rolled her eyes and snapped '_Anapneo_,' her wand pointed sharply at Ron's throat.

He coughed once more, sending mushy blobs of regurgitated bacon at Dean Thomas, who yelled in revulsion and distaste, before staring, horrified, at Hermione.

'B-but she has to!' he hiccoughed desperately. 'We worked so hard on that letter.'

Hermione nodded mournfully. 'I tried to convince her,' she added, 'but she thinks it's a bit of a joke. We're going to have to work a bit harder.'

Ron glimpsed thoughtfully over at an approaching Harry, before plastering on an amiable grin and slapping a healthy slab of buttered toast on his best friend's plate.

'Um, thanks.' Harry glanced uncertainly at Ron, before shrugging and stabbing his breakfast cheerfully with his fork.

'So, Harry, how're you?' Ron asked over-exuberantly, and Hermione gravely flung the palm of her quivering hands to her head in despair.

'Fine.' said Harry shortly.

'I got a really interesting letter from my Great Aunt Muriel yesterday.' Ron declared loudly. 'Did, uh, you get any mail, Harry?'

'Some.'

'Who from?'

Harry stared at Ron in disbelief. Had he found out about the letter from Ginny? Was he angry? Was Harry about to be hexed into next Tuesday?

'Um, from Lupin.' he fabricated hurriedly.

Ron's face fell; he exchanged anxious glances with an equally-shifty Hermione.

'What's going on?' Harry demanded irritably.

'It's just that Ginny mentioned sending some mail yesterday.' Hermione lied, coming heroically to Ron's aid. 'To you, actually.'

'She-she did?' Harry echoed, his eyes flitting instinctively to Ron, brimming with anticipation.

'Yeah, something about needing to tell you something, something really important,' Hermione lied. 'Did you not get any letters?'

Harry glanced nervously at Ron. 'Um, no, I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione.'

'Damn Crookshanks,' Ron muttered darkly under his breath, 'I knew the stinking furball wouldn't do it.'

This earned him a ferocious glare from the ever-sharp eared bookworm beside him.

'Oh stop being such a damn coward, Harry!' Hermione snapped, losing her patience.

Harry jumped violently, the end result being he upturned a large glass jug brimming with iced pumpkin juice all over Ron, drenching his now-soggy sausages and causing him to cry out in surprise and disgust.

'I mean it!' Hermione hissed. 'I'm sick of you! And _you,_' she added viciously, with a glacial glower at a bewildered, and very wet Ron.

With this last cryptic, frosty sentence, Hermione leapt up from the bench and stormed, quite vexed, off to Potions.

'I, um, really don't know what she's talking about,' Harry hastily fibbed to Ron, who had previously been scowling at his sopping-wet, sticky trousers.

'Don't look at me, what do I know about girls?' Ron mumbled, with a _very _dirty look in the direction Hermione had just stalked off in.

Harry took Ron's inevitable rant as a useful escape route; he speedily exited from the Great Hall and hastened after Hermione.

* * *

Lunchtime came and both Hermione and Ron were growing increasingly edgy. Hermione hadn't even had the chance to become huffy over Slughorn mooning over Harry in Potions as a result of that stupid book.

'I'd better make sure Ginny goes,' Hermione, whose bad temper had dissipated somehow within the short space of time she'd spent working on her Strengthening Solution, muttered to Ron as they bustled out of the pungent classroom.

'I don't think you need to.' Ron answered triumphantly; sure enough, as Hermione wheeled around to stare disbelievingly out of the window, there was a slender redheaded figure making its way towards the lake.

'I knew she'd go.' Hermione smiled. 'Where's Harry?'

'Here. What're you talking about?' demanded Harry, stalking up from behind them with a stubborn look on his pallid, bespectacled face.

'Oh, just Hermione trying to squeeze money out of me for that SPEW thing.' improvised Ron smoothly.

'Right. I…um…' Harry hesitated; with a shifty glance at Ron, he shuffled his feet awkwardly.

'Oh, I'm really sorry Harry,' Hermione exclaimed abruptly, 'but Ron promised to explain about Wonky Faints to me this lunchtime. We'd better get going if he wants to get it all in. See you in the Great Hall later.'

Ron caught on. 'Yeah, sorry mate. I think Ginny's around here somewhere if you want to keep each-other company.'

Harry appeared somewhat gobsmacked; leaving him stricken, Hermione dragged Ron down the thinning corridors and they exchanged a satisfied grin; they'd done it.

* * *

Ginny shook a lazy hand through her long, golden-red tresses and relished the immensely-contenting feeling of the pleasant sunshine coating her back. The Giant Squid was basking happily nearby, two slimy electric-green tentacles slapped upon the embankment by the glistening lake.

She didn't allow herself to wonder what Harry had wanted in his letter. It was probably something trivial – maybe he'd got himself another detention and she'd have to play the next match as Seeker instead.

Or maybe not…

The tell-tale, soft crunching noise of trampled grass startled her and she whipped around to see Harry himself, that dishevelled jet-black hair of his ruffled by the weak wind, smiling at her.

'Hey,' he said warmly.

She braced herself; an instinctive grin broke across her indifferent, full-lipped mask as it always did when she saw him.

'Hey. I thought you weren't coming. I was getting to the point of talking to the Giant Squid.'

Harry chuckled as he stepped casually closer, breath haggard.

'Sorry. But I'm sure she's very friendly.'

'Oh yes, very much so. A bit too friendly, actually. She needs to keep her tentacles to herself.'

This snippet had them both laughing, albeit only gently.

'So what have you done this time, Harry?'

'What d'you mean?'

'You'd only have asked to meet me if you've pissed off Snape again and I've got to play Seeker on Saturday.'

'Asked to meet you? I never asked to meet you.'

'Your owl begs to differ.'

'So does Hermione's cat.'

'_What_?'

'You sent me a letter via Crookshanks asking to meet me by the lake at lunchtime. I've still got it here.'

'…I never wrote that! You wrote me a letter asking _me _to meet you by the lake at lunchtime.'

'I did?'

'Well that coffee-stained letter says so.'

Harry stared at her incredulously; she was gazing back obstinately at him with the same defiant, blazing expression, her hair illuminated by the runny chrome-yellow eye of the sun, burning a flame-red.

'I don't understand.' he confessed eventually.

'Me neither. Well, I'm starving. Want to go and have lunch and forget all about this?' offered Ginny brightly.

'Definitely.' nodded Harry fervently; he met her pace and nudged her ever-so-lightly; she retaliated with a playful shove and soon enough they were mock-fighting across the secluded grounds; in peals of affected, genuine laughter.

* * *

'Harry.'

'Yeah?'

'It just occurred to me…'

'What?'

'Crookshanks is Hermione's cat.'

'Yeah. Mental furball.'

'Hedwig likes my brother, right?'

'Yeah…'

'Enough to, say, deliver a letter for him?'

'I guess so – why?'

'If I didn't write you a letter…'

'And I didn't write you one…'

'And Ron and Hermione are looking at us and smirking…'

'You don't think…?'

'Yes, I do think. I think my idiot brother and Hermione tried to set us up!'

_Would that be so bad? _was Harry's first, immediate thought – he sheepishly banished it to the back of his mind and allowed the shock to immerse him properly.

'Who knew Ron was so crafty?' Harry joked feebly.

'It was probably Hermione's idea.' Ginny assured him confidently. 'Though I am impressed that he managed to keep his mouth shut about it.'

'That's why they were so secretive about it earlier.' Harry realised. 'I am stupid.'

'I should've known when Hermione asked me if I got any post yesterday.'

'And Ron randomly started spouting out stuff about your Great Auntie Muriel…'

'Harry…' Ginny's voice suddenly developed to a lower, sly tone; her topaz eyes narrowed and glistened with mischief and possibility.

'You're plotting something.'

'Why don't we pretend to be dating? You know, like their little letter idea worked?'

'You mean…tell them we're going out?'

'Yeah. Why not? It'll be fun.' said Ginny excitedly.

Harry paused, apprehensive. On one hand – getting to hold Ginny's hand, potentially kiss her? – and all the rest was _so _tempting…but then again, could he really handle it knowing it was all fake to her but so real, or at least brilliant, for him?

'Oh wait…' Harry stopped short as Ginny reprimanded herself furiously. 'You like someone, don't you? It was selfish of me to suggest this. You shouldn't have to put your life on hold for a silly prank. Never mind.' she wheeled around and began to pad away.

'Ginny – wait!' Harry called involuntarily; he feeling of her walking away from him was nothing he ever wanted to experience again.

She whipped back around.

'You're right. There is a girl I like. But-' he shook his head gently as she opened her mouth '-she's worth the wait.'

Harry thought he saw something other than relief flash in her blazing topaz orbs; it looked a lot like pain.

'That's great, Harry. I'm so glad.' she said kindly. 'And if you're sure…'

Unfortunately for Harry and Ginny, they didn't notice the triumphant, cunning first year who was sitting only a few seats away, a feverish plot being concocted in his sly little mind.

* * *

'I can't believe it worked!' said Hermione happily for the fifth time, as she rubbed her hands eagerly in front of the blazing, wild orange flames that were licking the fireplace.

'I know,' agreed Ron, 'I thought they'd get it for sure. Maybe not Harry, cause he barely notices anything. But Ginny's been able to suss stuff out since she was two. This one time I knocked her birthday cake on the floor by accident and said Percy did it. Then Ginny did her first bit of accidental magic and launched me into the garden pond!'

Hermione smirked. 'That sounds like something she'd do.'

'Harry has a lot to thank us for,' Ron added sternly, as he gestured suggestively towards where Harry and Ginny were huddled up in the same armchair, flirting and laughing.

'I can't wait to tell Ginny,' revealed Hermione modestly, 'she won't believe it was all because of us.'

Ron shifted uncomfortably. 'So, uh…how's Vicky?'

Hermione scowled at him fiercely; she gripped her wand with such excessive force that Ron recoiled slightly and seemed to shrink in his seat, flushing a brilliant carmine.

'I haven't spoken to _Vicky _in ages,' she snapped defensively. 'How's Lav-Lav?'

'I told you, I dumped her!' fired back Ron vehemently.

Hermione opened her mouth defiantly, ready to yap right back at him, but she was interrupted by the sudden and baffling appearance of a midget-like, small first year, sporting a babyish cheeky smile and fingering his wand absent-mindedly.

'Can we help you?' she smiled enquiringly.

'Yes,' confirmed the boy pompously, 'you can.'

'You!' Ron hissed venomously. 'You're that little git from earlier!'

'Ron,' pressed Hermione firmly. 'Right. Have you come to apologise for your rude behaviour?'

'No.' retorted the boy dryly. 'I just thought you should know that you're not as clever as you so obviously think you are.'

'Well thanks for that,' growled Ron, 'but we're sixth years, pal, and prefects at that, so unless you want a week's detentions I'd shut your mouth right now.'

Hermione inhaled sharply at this, but said nothing.

'Alright, if you're not bothered that Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter are playing you for fools.' said the boy with an impartial shrug, and he strolled away, whistling merrily, leaving a bewildered Hermione and an indignant Ron.

'What an arrogant little –' Ron started tetchily, but Hermione's hand swiftly flew up to stop him as she furrowed her brow in confusion.

'Playing us for fools? What did he mean?' she muttered aloud.

Ron averted his gaze to where his sister and Harry were chuckling loudly, entwined together, a mass of tangled limbs and silky red hair.

'No…' Hermione breathed, shaking her head desperately. 'No, they couldn't have. They wouldn't.'

'What?' demanded Ron.

'Ron, I don't think Harry and Ginny are really together,' Hermione mumbled shakily.

Ron frowned and mulled it over; of course they were! They were practically snogging in that chair.

Although…

He hadn't seen any kissing, just a lot of flirting and giggling, especially when he or Hermione was looking their way.

'Bloody hell,' he swore as cold, tingling realisation washed over him. 'They know!'

'Ah,' said Hermione slyly, 'but they don't know we know they know.'

Ron gaped at her. 'In English?'

'Oh for goodness' sake, Ron, it means that we have the advantage!' explained Hermione impatiently.

'This is getting a bit complicated,' pointed out Ron evasively. 'Maybe we should just admit what we did.'

'No,' said Hermione crossly, 'they started playing games first. I never would've believed this of Harry.'

'Ginny probably talked him into it,' Ron told her truthfully. 'She's got double the mischief of Fred and George, she just doesn't show it that much.'

It was at that moment that Harry and Ginny, their hands nestled together, twin broad grins plastered across their contented faces, untangled themselves from the armchair and came over.

'I'm going up to bed.' announced Ginny sweetly. 'Night, Harry.' she leant over and dropped a single, chaste kiss on his unsuspecting, supple lips and departed for the girls' dormitories, hair swaying wildly behind her.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry expectantly.

He lifted his hand slowly, glowing emerald eyes protuberant and disbelieving, touched his lips ever-so-lightly, beamed, and took a dazed sort of walk up to the boys' dormitories.

'They aren't together,' concluded Hermione.

'Yet.' added Ron with a smirk, and Hermione mirrored it as the two put their heads together and began to bicker.

* * *

'Ginny…d'you think Ron and Hermione know?'

His "girlfriend" looked up, surprise painted upon her pale, daintily-freckled features. 'I doubt it. I mean, they'd have said something if they knew.'

Harry considered this. 'So you're okay with being my girlfriend then?'

Ginny smiled at him, a beautiful, warm smile that had him rendered speechless for a few pregnant seconds. 'Of course not, Harry. Any girl would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend. Even if it is just a fake one.'

'So there's nobody else you'd rather be going out with?' the words tumbled carelessly off Harry's moistened tongue and he kneaded his thumb in anticipation.

'No,' replied Ginny, 'I did like Dean…but then he just started being really jealous. And he kept trying to push me through the portrait hole.'

'Probably just to get his hands on your bum.' blurted Harry, before he could stop himself. He inwardly cursed and awaited her response anxiously.

'I don't know why he'd want to,' Ginny answered, 'to be honest I think he just thought of me as a possession more than a girlfriend. He said I should stop talking to you. As if I was going to cut off one of my best friends for that git.'

Harry didn't know which part of her reply had him more elated or shocked; she considered him a best friend? And _why_ had Dean asked Ginny to stop talking to _him _of all people?

'Why me?' he inquired softly.

'Well –' Ginny hesitated, apprehensive, 'he said some really ridiculous stuff. Don't laugh.'

Harry nodded obligingly.

'He said…he said you fancied me and I was encouraging you by flirting with you all the time.' said Ginny uncomfortably. 'Stupid, I know, but don't worry, I know it's not true.'

It was as though someone had gutted Harry and replaced his lightweight organs with stones; he felt weighed down, heavy and queasy – this was his chance – his heart quickened – but Ginny had just said it was ridiculous!

'What's so ridiculous about it?' he requested in a hushed, yet clear voice.

Ginny, obviously taken aback, fidgeted slightly. 'I know you don't fancy me, Harry. I've always known that. I was just a silly ten year old with a crush and stupid hopes that you'd notice me. I grew up.'

'You're not ten years old anymore.' Harry reminded her.

Ginny stared at him for a few, tense moments; she seemed to be fighting the urge to interrogate him lengthily about what on earth he meant.

'What are you saying?'

'I'm saying there's nothing ridiculous about me fancying you.' said Harry.

'…nothing ridiculous about you _possibly _fancying me.' Ginny corrected him. 'When you say it like that it sounds like –'

She never finished her sentence, because Harry, with a surge of bravado and determination sweeping over him, leant over and captured her sweet lips with an even sweeter, hungry kiss.

They pulled apart.

'What about the girl?' said Ginny breathlessly. 'You know, the one who's worth the wait.'

'That girl is you.'

* * *

'…think they can outsmart us!'

'You're Hermione Granger, the girl who practically lives in the library!'

'And you know Harry – and Ginny – the best.'

'Well, we're going to confront them right now,' said Hermione boldly, as the two of them barged through the heavy, creaking castle doors and trampled earnestly across the jagged blades of damp grass.

'There they are!' Ron shouted triumphantly. 'I see red hair!'

'Right!' puffed Hermione, and she grabbed Ron's hand and tugged him firmly after her as they made a beeline for the lonely, dear tree that shrouded most of Ginny and Harry's close, dark silhouettes from public view.

They drew up close to the pair, but the sight stopped both Hermione and Ron in their tracks as in turn their mouths fell open, Hermione still exhaling heavily and Ron gasping and huffing.

Harry and Ginny were snogging.

'Ahem!' Hermione coughed pointedly.

Ginny tore her lips lazily away from her boyfriend's. 'Oh, hi Hermione,' she said brightly. 'Ron.'

'What are you two doing?' Ron yelped.

'Snogging.' said Harry.

'Well we were,' said Ginny wistfully, 'until you rudely interrupted us.'

Hermione folded her arms. 'We know your game,' she said, 'you made up the fake-dating thing to get back at us for sending you those notes! Well we were only trying to help you and there was no need to take it this far –'

'Hermione,' said Harry quietly, 'I'm going to have to stop you there. Because neither Ginny nor I have a clue what you're ranting about.'

'You're not really together – unfortunately,' Hermione continued brashly, 'you just decided to play a harmless prank on Ron and I. Well, we saw through it and –'

'What?' repeated Ginny quizzically. 'Hermione, Harry and I don't know anything about any notes or schemes or pranks.'

'But – but – I…' flabbergasted, perplexed and irritated, Hermione turned to Ron, speechless.

'Hang on a second,' Ron said, 'Harry, are you going out with Ginny? Really?'

'Yes.' said Harry.

'Oh. Right. Okay.' Ron paused. 'Um…just make sure there's no…funny business. And we're all right.'

Harry glanced at Ginny, who grinned.

'Okay.'

Hermione squinted suspiciously at Harry and Ginny.

'Well played.' she said at last, reluctantly. 'You got us back for trying to set you up. But for what it's worth…it worked!'

'Hey, Hermione,' began Ron uncertainly, 'do you…wait…never mind. I'll see you guys later. I need to write a letter to...uh...Mum.'

'You wrote to Mum this morning.' Ginny responded helpfully.

But Ron had already walked away; Hermione shrugged and beamed delightedly at the pair.

* * *

Hermione finished the last word of her six page essay with a flourish and a dainty swirl of ink before carefully laying out the crisp parchment to dry overnight. She turned to the window and made to shut it, conscious of the frosty night air biting at her exposed flesh.

A small, yappy, overexcited ball of fluff came flapping erratically through the slim gap of the window and chirped cheerily, a crumpled, dog-eared sliver of parchment clasped in its tiny, shiny orange beak.

Hermione tugged at the parchment and scanned it hurriedly.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I really like you. Please meet me tomorrow afternoon in the library for a study date._

_Ron_

Hermione smiled.

* * *

Finished. Hope you liked it. Please review:) I will be publishing another H/G HBP one-shot soon featuring Arnold the Pygmy Puff, Harry and Ginny.

~GoldenSnidget13


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